A Game of Shadows
by MrScurge
Summary: Harry is whisked away by Sirius that fateful night, with the world believing he is dead. Payback is on the menu for Voldemort as he is attacked from the shadows by the unknown. Only through learning of his ancestry can Harry truly understand the power he can wield. New Prophecy, WBWL - Neville, HP/DG.
1. Chapter 1: Betrayed

Disclaimer: I do not, unfortunately own Harry Potter, and all of its glorious associated titles.

I do draw on previously read fanfictions, but I try to make this one unique. Any similarities of the work is completely accidental.

There may be character death involved. You have been warned.

A/N: This is re-edited, as to make the paragraphs more manageable. I was initially planning to let this be kept the same, but pressures from review has led me to rectify the mistake. I must say, I think it is a good idea to change the paragraphs.

A Game of Shadows: Betrayed

The hooded man apparated to Godric's Hollow, focussed upon his goal. For a year now, he had sought the family that continued to defy him, he who is Lord Voldemort, and to hide from him. He couldn't stop the sick, twisted leer, pass over his face, as he sighted his goal, the Potter Family house. If he had more time, he probably would've admired the delicate looking iron fence, with ivy and vines growing over it, the hedge towering over the fence behind it, like a silent sentinel. Emerald, orb like eyes appeared in the hedge to the left of the gate, startling the Dark Lord. He sniffed with disdain at the act. They blinked once, and faded from view, disappearing into nothingness.

Voldemort tapped the wrought iron gate with his yew wand, and silently cast the alohomora spell. The gate opened, squeaking angrily at the intruder. The house stayed silent, as if it were watching with bated breath. Glding up the path, Voldemort approached the plain front door, adorned only with an old fashioned brass knocker, looking rather weather beaten. He sensed, rather than saw, anti-appartition and portkey wards go up, and a powerful defensive ward being raised as to protect the house.

Voldemort laughed, a truly bone-chilling laugh, which convinced James Potter (who was by the front door) that they were dealing with an insane being. Voldemort raised his wand again, and unlocked the front door. James gazed outside, going still with shock, as his mind fought to keep up with the information being presented to him. He closed the door. Voldemort opened it. James closed it. It was like a well-rehearsed pantomime. Neither man would speak, each would glare at each other, as the door swung open, then shut. Voldemort grew sick of the game quickly, and cast reducto at James' feet. James leapt back, into the path of a cutting curse, which severed his head from his body.

Voldemort looked impassively at the mop of hair that was once James Potter's head. He kicked it, just for fun. A wail sounded from the floor above him, a shrill scream of heart-wrenching sorrow, as Lily Potter felt her husband depart from the world of the living. Voldemort angled his head upward, and marched with military precision up the winding staircase. Lily Potter met him at the top of the stairs, looking him in the eyes. He saw the mixed emotions of pain, shock, fear and oddly, defiance, swirling in her emerald eyes.

For her part, she stood mesmerised by his dark, angry red eyes that swelled with power. She collapsed, never hearing or seeing the Avada Kedavra being cast toward her. Voldemort moved past her, and shot a dark bolt of energy at her, causing her skin to rupture, and blood spurt everywhere, coating the walls.

Harry James Potter opened his eyes, as he was spattered with some unidentifiable liquid. His short legs kicked, as he grasped the sides of the crib and pulled himself to a standing position. He barely rose to the height of the cribs wall, but he was still able to see the red mass of nauseating flesh in the hallway. As he saw it, he registered the bond of mother to child breaking, filling him with a feeling of love and regret. A tinkling sound of breaking glass, brought him back to the present, as he registered a hooded figure enter the room.

He reached his hand out, to grasp the person's cloak, but was rudely shoved back into his mattress. His head cracked against the headboard, to which Harry screamed in pain. A smirk flittered across the man's face, as he lowered his hood, and faced the child of the prophecy. A green glow lit the end of his wand, as he went to cast the killing curse. He whirled around and cast it at a house elf, which had just popped into the room, in an attempt to save the infant Harry. It was vaporised by Voldemort's second spell, which followed the Avada Kedavra.

He turned his attention back to Harry. Voldemort fired the killing curse, closing his eyes as he did so. As it was, he missed the silvery essence that flowed from Harry's surprised eyes and ensconced the curse, which was absorbed into the infant. It flowed back in through his forehead, leaving a bloody scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. The backlash from the absorbed magic lifted Voldemort from his feet, slamming him into a wall, where audible crunches and cracks were heard. Harry slipped into unconsciousness, as a final push of pure magic crumbled Voldemort's body, leaving a black, inky substance to float out of the body, materialise into a translucent snake, and wriggle away.

Minutes later, Sirius Black arrived in front of the house, which was now clearly visible, the Fidelius Charm being broken by the death of the caster. The front gate was open, and swung lightly in the wind. The storm that had threatened for most of the day finally broke overhead, sending water earthwards. Within a few minutes, Sirius' hair was matted against his face from the water, and it was streaming down his clothes. Sirius stood there, watching, as his tears melded with the rain. Delaying no longer, he walked up the short path toward the front door, although to him, it took aeons to reach. He reverently touched the door, and it swung open, closing in Sirius' face due to the gust of wind that howled through the house.

Wrenching it open again, he stepped inside, only to be greeted by the beheaded body of his best mate. Sirius' tears multiplied, and his gut twisted, his heart plummeting, but he steeled himself, and made the trek upstairs. He was greeted by the mangled body of Lily. He retched at the sight, before scurgifying the vomit from the otherwise pristine, yet blood spattered carpet. In a sick, perverted way, Sirius realised this was Voldemort's art, one that the Dark Lord revelled in, the killing of muggleborn.

Casting Homos revellium toward Harry's room, his eyes bugged. The tell-tale red sign of another human was clear, yet tiny, and Sirius' heart rose, when he realised it was infant Harry. He crept into the room, ignoring the ashes against the wall, and reached into the crib and scooped Harry out. He cradled the baby, daring to hope that this young lad was going to survive. Sirius knew that he needed to rush and seek medical attention for Harry. He bundled the babe, and rushed out of the house, his grief, not yet turning to anger over the betrayal of his mate.

Rushing into the wizarding hospital of St Mungos, he sought out the Black family Healer, Healer Carrick. Healer Carrick was an experienced healer who had served St Mungos for over 20 years. "Healer, I must ask for your discretion on this check-up, understand? I want nobody to document this visit, there is to be no records of this happening. If people ask, you stood outside for a break, had a twirl of your wand, whatever excuse you can possibly come up with, got it?" stated Sirius, as he stared down the elder healer, who blinked languidly back.

He politely replied "Yes, I understand Lord Black. Whatever it is, it will remain discreet." With that announcement, Sirius handed the bundle, AKA Baby Harry, to the Healer, who cautiously peeled back the layers surrounding the baby. He gasped. Sirius smiled, and looked at the Healer pointedly. The healer nodded, and placed the baby down on an inspection table. Reverently, he started casting diagnostic charms. He stepped back from his work, a few nerve wracking moments later. "There is nothing wrong with him, just some magical exhaustion, and the dilemma of this curse scar. I have checked it out fully, but cannot distinguish what it is. I believe that is residual from Harry's magic, but under what circumstances, I am unsure" Healer Carrick said toward Sirius.

Sirius nodded seriously, and rebundled Harry. "Goodbye Healer, may good fortune find you" and with that cryptic comment, Sirius Black strolled out of the room, into the hallway and made his way downstairs, to main level. Upon opening the main doors, he paused over the threshold. He sniffed the air, breathing deeply, and made his way to his beloved Triumph T140 Bonneville. He patted it fondly, before starting up, and roared down the street, taking Harry with him. He had a responsibility, to both Harry, and to Lily and James. It strengthened his resolve that he was about the do the right thing. He was leaving the country. No one would find him, or Harry.

O0o0o0o0o0oo0o0

The rain and wind whipped Albus Dumbledore's lengthy beard around his face. He marched up to the Potter's house. He was in a foul mood, as he was out of his office when the Potter's house wards had failed, and consequently wasn't able to respond to the instruments telling him the wards had failed. Adding on top of that, he was out of the Headmaster's office. An Auror rushed out of the gate to greet the wizened Headmaster. "Ah, Dawlish, perhaps you would let me know what is happening?" Dumbledore asked the Auror in question, Dawlish. Dawlish looked down for a second, not meeting the aged wizards eyes, and gathered his thoughts.

"Dumbledore, the bodies have been removed, and are in the process of being cremated. Several spells were used which parted the Potter's with their lives. From what I have seen, nobody survived, including Voldemort. We conclude this from the inordinate amount of pure magic that registered with the remaining house wards" replied Dawlish. He looked up, and saw the sorrow etched into Dumbledore's face. Albus' face sagged, appearing the age he really was, but never really felt.

"Thank you Dawlish for the report. I will, if you don't mind, inspect the property, before declaring the wizarding world free of Voldemort" grated out Dumbledore, his heart already sick with grief. He stepped through the door, and started his investigation. Half an hour later he concluded the search for clues, having found none, besides the mysterious ashes. Dumbledore, unwittingly, concluded correctly that this was the remnants of Voldemort's body. His mind traced back to the prophecy, especially the line of _either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. _Albus sighed, interpreting the prophecy, he must now look for another child that fits the prophecy, as clearly, Harry Potter died on this fateful night, but Voldemort still lives.

That there was not a clear body of Voldemort is just an indication that his former student had delved deeply into the Dark Arts, and quite possibly made himself almost immortal. His mind wandered. Maybe that Longbottom boy. He's been clearly marked by Voldemort, mentally scarred, from the fate that befell his parents at Voldemort and Bellatrix's hands. Yes. He fits the bill perfectly. Dumbledore, having concluded the thoughts, apparated, firstly to the Daily Prophet to let them know the news, and secondly to Longbottom manor, where he needed to inform Madame Longbottom, that infant Neville, was in fact, the child of the prophecy. His apparition was noticed by a beady eyed rat, who cautiously stole into the house from the back door.

0o0o000o0o0ooo0o0o

Peter clutched his wand fearfully. He stood on the end of a muggle pier, with the options of duelling an enraged Remus Lupin, who was filled with grief, or jumping. Being the coward he was, he jumped, straight into the swirling depths of the black water below. It belatedly occurred to him the irony of jumping into something black. Lupin sent spells raining down around Pettigrew, as the rat escaped. Lupin swore. He had no-one to turn to. Sirius had mysteriously disappeared, and Lupin knew that Peter was the Potter's secret keeper. He apparated into the muggle world, and was swallowed up by a shady looking alley.


	2. Chapter 2: Down Under

Disclaimer: Check Chapter 1

Well everyone, here is the next chapter. Hope you enjoy.

A Game of Shadows Chapter 2: Down Under

The green-eyed, jet black haired boy, sleepily opened his eyes. He had just turned 11 eleven a few days ago, and so far, he felt no different than normal. Sirius still hadn't given him his gift, and he was acting all sneaky about it. It was really grinding of Harry's nerves. He spotted a spider scuttling across the wall, seeking a place where it could hide from potential danger. Harry sighed, flicked back the lightweight sheets, clambered out of bed, and sat on the edge of the bed. He took a few moments to right himself. Grumbling about the magical contact lenses he wore, he gingerly lowered himself to the timbered floor and ground out 100 reps of sit ups and pushups, before even bothering to get dressed.

After being told he looked scruffy by the magic mirror, he meandered downstairs of the modest apartment. He looked out over the Pacific Ocean, and admired the view from the breakfast bar. His godfather was already seated and reading the muggle newspaper, as he'd already discarded the wizarding one. Sirius peered over the paper at Harry, and looked him up and down, with an almost militaristic uniform inspection.

"Harry, we are going into the Avenue today, as I need to pick up some supplies" stated Sirius, while casually flipping the page.

Harry shrugged, not really caring, before whining "Do I have to change, Sirius? You know how much I hate having to disguise when in public."

Sirius glared, then smirked as he waited for his pseudo son to change his looks. He didn't have to wait long. Harry sighed will feigned annoyance, and started changing appearance. His black hair changed to a light brown, eyes widened and changed to an ocean blue. His face filled, with raising of the cheekbones, imitating the aristocratic look of the Black family, and his lightning bolt scar disappeared. He grew slightly taller, wincing as joints popped and stretched accordingly, and deepened his voice slightly, just to give the impression of a 14 year-old.

His custom-made clothes expanded with him, hugging his body slightly, before the black fabric smoothed against his chest, and the khaki cargo pants adjusted themselves. It still gave Harry the heebie-jeebies when he stared into the mirror after changing, looking at a face that wasn't really himself, but it was par for the course for metamorphmagi.

He sighed and turned to Sirius, miming 'Let's go'. Sirius dropped the paper, with ill hidden enthusiasm. Harry rolled his eyes. Bloody Sirius.

000o0ooo0000ooo0oo0oo00oo

It wasn't far for the duo to walk from their beachfront apartment at Burleigh Beach to Burleigh Headlands, where Mayers Avenue was. Harry had visited once before, with Sirius compaing the Avenue to a wizarding place back in England called Diagon Alley. According to Sirius, Mayers was a smaller, yet more upmarket wizarding shopping centre, than its British counterpart.

Harry was jerked from his daydreaming, and elbowed Sirius, none-to-gently, to stop him oogling a pair of scantily clad girls who were tanning on the beach. Sirius mock glared at Harry, then winked, completely ruining the stern effect.

They made their way to the magical avenue without any other major problems. They disappeared into a quaint looking cafe, which doubled as the entrance to the avenue, titled a rather simplistic name of The Beach Cafe. Although not dingy by any standards, it was small, homey bordering upon claustrophobic, hence the preference for takeaway. This suited the wizarding population of the Gold Coast fairly well. Muggles would not hang around the shop itself, and thus would not wonder about the disappearance of wizards and witches, who had entered the shop.

The actual entrance was an inconspicuous set of stairs that led to a block of toilets, situated directly beneath the cafe building. Instead of crossing the threshold into the toilets, wizards simply tapped the wall on the right 4 times in quick succession with their wands. Once the tapping was completed, a doorway was illuminated, with a silvery light and you stepped through, into the avenue beyond. Sirius was on a mission though, and powered through the cafe, not even giving the customers a second glance, and subsequently the entrance to the avenue, and led Harry straight to Jacob's Owls and Birds shop. Harry stopped opposite the main familiar store, Jenkin's Familiars, and gazed at the avenue. It was peculiar, with signs hanging off every possible area, with adverts plastered upon every wall.

Harry's eyes followed a singular road, which eventually split with a fork in the road, curving around a magnificent building. It reminded Harry of the Flatiron building in America, with less floors, but more austere. Harry glanced about, then launched himself into the owlery with reckless abandon. Sirius chuckled, followed him a more sedate pace, after also admiring the avenue, and later found him with a Powerful Owl sitting on his shoulder. Sirius did a double take.

"Harry, you may have two familiars of your own choice, as a birthday gift from me to you" said Sirius, while keeping a careful eye on the owl, who glared back, beadily, fixing Sirius with an intelligent gaze.

Harry's eyes lit up in childish delight "Well, Padfoot, I'd really like Hermes here," a mournful hoot of approval interrupted Harry, "and ummm, can I look in Jenkin's shop, please?"

"Yeah alright Harry, be quick though." Sirius replied, as he looked through the various owls on display. He ended up choosing a rather large Kookaburra kingfisher bird, so that he had a familiar for postal service. He laughed in his head as he thought of all the pranks he could play with a postal bird that was not an owl. Sirius christened the bird as Risus, due to his call that he is famous for.

Sirius slowly made his way over to Jenkin's Familiars, after stocking up on potion ingredients and a few rarer warding books, of course in different stores. He stopped next to Harry after finally being able to locate him again, who was browsing the snakes. Sirius frowned. It wasn't like he was really against getting a snake for Harry, if that is what he wanted, it's just snakes brought bad connotations and memories for Sirius, not to mention the wider wizarding population. He shrugged the feeling off, thinking 'What could possibly go wrong?'

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Naturally, everything decided to go wrong after that grand statement. Masked men in trench coats filed into the avenue and started casting, using their once-concealed wands, left, right and centre, targeting mainly stores, rather than people. Purple and orange spells were thrown everywhere by the individuals, who seemed hell bent on using spells that were best used against buildings. The individuals showed themselves to be thoughtful, as they targeted the supports of the quaint structures, and not the building face, itself, and the spells consumed each support, or were blown apart. Of course, this led to the stores collapsing, ruining stock and people alike.

Jenkin's hadn't been hit yet. Harry, completely oblivious to the goings on around him, was talking to a tan coloured magical fierce snake whose name was Wraith. The oblivious shop attendant ignored the danger in order to make the sale of the snake to Harry, who also seemed ignorant of the situation which was developing just beyond the glass windows of the shopfront. Sirius handed over the money to the attendant hurriedly, Harry lifted the snake out of its glass cage, just as the glass panes of the store exploded inward. Harry ducked behind the shelf, avoiding most of the glass, that now were sprinkled liberally on the ground around them.

"Harry," warned Sirius, "don't do anything, just leave it to others, there is no reason for us to partake in this. It could blow our cover. Unlikely, but still possible". Harry nodded in understanding. He crouched down and comforted Wraith, or was it Wraith comforting Harry, Sirius couldn't be sure. He sure as hell knew it wasn't Hermes, as the owl was smart enough to disappear before entering the pet shop. Either way, Sirius still had enough sense to overturn a table and crouch behind that. Risus had disappeared also. He didn't want either Harry or himself to explode into action, as it would attract undue attention to themselves, which they definitely didn't want.

Sirius peeked warily above the table to watch the local Law Enforcement agents put down the aggressors, amid taunts by the general public who were brazen enough to still be in the streets. The LE agents were finishing up arresting those responsible when an alarm started blaring from the local Gringotts branch. Sirius groaned as the alarm started cutting swaths through his head, causing a massive headache for him. Great. Within a few minutes, the alarms were shut off. Sirius gestured to Harry, who joined him behind the table. Sirius nodded to the attendant, before dashing out of the shop to the nearest safe apparition point. The LE agents, Sirius noted, were casting reparos everywhere, in an effort to put the avenue back to normal. Some shoppers were just starting up again, but finding some of the shops they wished to visit temporarily closed, they wandered off again. Both Harry and Sirius looked at each other in amazement, before Sirius side-apparated Harry to their apartment.

Sirius just shook his head and muttered "Australians." Harry snorted with half derision and half amusement. Only in Australia would you find wizards, and muggles alike, just able to shrug off fairly major incidents and continue with life like nothing happened, with nary a "She'll be right, mate". Sirius propped up his new warding book, and started casting Notice-me-not wards, owl mail wards and spell damage wards over the apartment, his paranoia of being discovered, heightened by the attack on the alley. Harry just sat and watched him.

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**On the other side of the world**

Dumbledore was in his heaven, leaning comfortably in his upholstered recliner, surrounded by his many silver instruments, books, Fawkes and of course, the ever present bowl of Lemon Drops. Fawkes squawked softly, as a portrait situated near the door to the Headmaster's office, alerted Dumbledore to a frenzied Minerva McGonagall standing outside his door. He gestured to the door allowing it to open slowly.

"Ahhh, Minerva, I was wondering when you'd be up next to visit me. Pray tell me, what has gotten you in such a tizz?" kindly said Dumbledore, peering at the Transfiguration Professor with something akin to worry. He sighed mentally. "Maybe a lemon drop?" he asked hopefully.

"Albus, as you know, I like to look over the magic quill when it is writing the addresses and names to the children who have an invite to the college" intoned McGonagall, referring to the magic Invitation quill, "and I happened to find this written, cast off in one of the piles, separated from the main body." Here she broke off, and slipped the envelope with parchment inside, to the wizened Headmaster. It read:

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,_

_Scotland_

_Extends invitation to:_

_Harry James Potter_

_Penthouse, Unknown location_

_To attend Britain's finest Magical School._

Inside the envelope, lay a parchment with green ink spread on it, detailing the acceptance method and how to get to the school. Albus spluttered.

"What cruel joke do you think this is?" he roared, "There is no Harry James Potter. He is deceased. He is an ex-person. He has gone to meet our maker". McGonagall actually took a step backwards, as she had never heard the Headmaster speak like that, even at the height of his powers after defeating Grindelwald. She let him rage. She waited for the outburst to dissipate, which it did, given enough time. Albus looked up, firstly looking at a dusty, silvered object that resembled the muggle rheostat, then to McGonagall.

"The wards never lie," he whispered reverently, "The wards have never lied."

000oo0o0ooo0o00o

Remus tilted back on his plastic chair, in his own little cubicle, and stretched. There wasn't a day when he didn't think about James, Sirius, Lily and Harry. He wished he could simply quit his computer technician job and spend his time looking for Sirius and Harry. Deep in his heart, he knew he owed it to them to attempt to at least look for them. He turned back to the CRT monitor in front of him. God, how he hated squinting at the tiny screen. He chuckled, thinking if he had it bad, James and his glasses would've been far worse off.

He sighed. Although he bemoaned his job, he was, in fact, relieved that he had one. It had been hard for him to get a job after leaving Hogwarts, as he limited himself to the magical world, who scorned and spurned him for simply being a werewolf. After that October night, disappearing into the muggle world was almost a godsend. Of course, meeting with the traitor was not the highlight of the night, especially with the rat escaping. Remus thought he was too much of a coward to jump, but jump he did. Regardless, Moony turned his head back to the monitor.

Few minutes passed before he was gently tapped on the shoulder, bringing him out of his musings. His boss, a no nonsense sort of bloke, was standing and looking over the wolf's shoulder. Remus didn't mind, Bruce was just taking a hands on approach as a manager, and in Remus' opinion, actually doing a job, unlike most managers in the company. Remus knew Bruce was a squib, and also knew the last name of Smith was a complete fake, but the wolf never pushed to know his real name.

"Mr Lupin, as much as it pains me to say this, it seems like this company is losing a fine employee in you. Unfortunately, I have been instructed by a certain man to give you this letter. Attached was also a letter giving the company warning about you resigning." Moony frowned at Bruce's words. Bruce continued, misinterpreting Remus' look, "Don't worry, your wage for the next three months is being transferred to your bank account as we speak." Bruce lowered his voice. "I wouldn't wait to open the letter, but be precautious with it." Bruce walked away quickly, down the aisle, before vanishing from Remus' sight. He turned his attentions the regal looking letter. His breath hitched as he recognised the elegant writing, and the obvious magical use of parchment. _'Well, well, well. The magical world has use for me again does it?' _mused the werewolf, chuckling softly to himself.


	3. Chapter 3: Suspicions and Confrontations

Harry James Potter looked out of his opulent apartment, and scrutinised the white sand beach presented by his 360° view offered by aforementioned apartment. Sirius joined him, and immediately threw himself into the black (surprise!) leather couch, sinking into its comforting enfolds with relish. Sirius turned his head and studied Harry, noting the moody expression, and the eyes that spoke volumes of emotions, seeming to swim and mix in the deep emerald colour. Sirius knew that boy was going to get all the ladies. Those killing curse green eyes would just melt the hearts of all witches, and even muggles! Of course, there were the muscles that no normal 11 year old could ever hope to possess, but Sirius wasn't focusing on that.

He chuckled quietly to himself upon reflection of that statement. They stayed like that, Harry looking at the beach while ignoring his godfather, and said godfather trying to interpret as to what his godson was looking at. He gave up, and moved to the kitchen, unable to spy any hot chicks on the beach, leaving Harry to think in peace. Once in the kitchen, he placed his forehead against the cool, white marble tabletop, and glanced over toward the coffee pot. He groaned, hauling himself up, and started making a coffee.

It was a good time for a mental debate, he decided. Of course, one does not usually associate debating with Sirius, or even mental capabilities, so to people that didn't know Sirius that well, it should've been quite a surprise if they saw the pensive expression marring his face. Although Harry's birthday had passed only a few days ago, Sirius had still not yet honoured an agreement he made with James and Lily, in case of their premature demise. The agreement entailed that Harry would be taught all branches of magic, before attending a magical school, started on advanced duelling and other useful magical things that are similar. Also in the agreement was for Sirius to blood-adopt Harry, and also teach Harry the heritage of the Potter's, Evans' and the Black's.

Sirius knew all 3 heritages, but it was this knowledge and the blood-adoption that held him back from fully completing the agreement. His magic constantly reminded him of this fact. The only reason that he had not lost his magic, is because the agreement stated "Coming-of-Age", which could be interpreted as turning 11, turning 17, or when his magical puberty started developing. Sirius would prefer to tell Harry about his heritage at the latest possible date, but the man knew it would hurt Harry if he found out the information, and it wasn't from him. He also wanted to delay the adoption, as he truly believed that it would only cause mass confusion for the public. Sirius smiled sadistically, thinking it may actually not be such a bad idea after all, that is, causing mass confusion amongst the wizarding public. Oh boy he could have fun with that.

00o0ooo0o0o00o0o0oo

He returned, hours later, with a young man following him. Harry sprang from the chair, turning mid-air to face the intruder, and raised his unarmed right arm, his pointer finger directed at the man. Sirius guffawed. "Told you he has excellent reflexes," chucked Sirius to his counterpart. Harry took a moment to study the man.

He was of middling height, with piercing blue eyes, a much deeper blue than his dear godfather. His black hair was matted against his forehead, as if the fringe was supposed to cover the eyes. His nose looked like it had been broken more than once, and healed without much care. The robes that the man was covered in informed Harry that it was indeed a magical being he was observing, rather than a muggle. Harry concluded that it was a face he was likely to forget and lose amongst a crowd of people.

The man was introduced as Geoff, who also took the time to study the green-eyed, black haired child, whose stare belied an entrancing intelligence and intensity. "But I did neglect to tell you about his abilities." Geoff smiled slowly, with surprise, and perhaps some apprehension as he saw that Harry had raised his arm without a wand, hinting to wandless abilities. Geoff's eyes narrowed, which went unnoticed by both Godfather and Godson.

Harry relaxed, letting his arm slowly go back to hanging loosely by his side. He started judging Geoff to be of little threat to himself at the moment, coming to the conclusion that he must be one of the tutors Sirius had mentioned Harry would be getting some sort of training from. Offering his hand to the man, Harry introduced himself. Geoff clenched his hand tightly, on the verge of being painful, and Harry felt a tug behind his navel, not unlike being gutted by a meat hook rapidly, the familiar feeling of a portkey being activated.

The combination of man and boy landed in a clearing, surrounded by a ring of trees, some distance away from the duo. It was almost like a circular pit, with the walls made of the leafy green trees, standing silently, judging the two human intruders. It was completely silent, with nary a rustle of the leaves in a very light breeze. Unbeknownst to the men, a rather large Grim appeared, then sat down in the shadows of the trees, after turning around and around, like dogs are wont to do when determining a comfortable napping arrangements. Its keen gaze captured both males, as it settled down to watch. Sirius, for that was who the Grim was, didn't have long for the show to start.

Once his immediate world stopped spinning, and his momentary dizziness overcome, Harry stepped on the man's right foot and pivoted on it, grinding his foot down, and kneed the man in the groin. The man keeled over in pain, letting out a guttural grunt of pain. At this point, the raven haired child was not scared, but incredibly suspicious of Geoff, as one would normally be after being abducted from your own home. Harry scrambled away from his attacker, turning slightly as he felt a spell drawing close to him, allowing for minimal movement, but enough to dodge the spell. He couldn't really explain how he felt the spell approaching, it was just something he became aware of, with his daily sparring practises with Sirius.

The slight turn took him out the way of a stunner, the red light flashing over Harry's shoulder. It was quickly followed by an impedimenta jinx, then a jelly legs jinx. Harry evaded both of the jets of light as they raced towards him. He almost snorted with derision at the spells that were being sent his way. 'Honestly,' he thought, 'does this guy even know who I am? Such simple spells are not going of affect me'. As if answering his internal monologue, the spell barrage increased.

Rolling to the side, he dodged a brown coloured spell, which he didn't recognise, and raised his right arm. Pointer finger extended towards his adversary, he let loose with 3 high powered stunners, then a protego shield to absorb some magical backlash. The shield was impressive to say the least. From Harry's perspective, it was like a blue glow, circular in shape that was created at the tip of the finger. For an adversary, it was a circular mirror, complete with reflection. Geoff reacted to the counter attack with astounding speed, raising his own shield, although looking surprised at the attack, and quickly recovered from the emotion. The first spell clanged into Geoff's silvery shield. Less impressive than Harry's, it still seemed enough to do the job, for most spells. It wobbled, but held. The second stunner was absorbed by the shield, which promptly exploded into magical shards of energy, not unlike pieces of glass, ripping into the ground as they were thrown clear of the combatants. The last stunner cleaved into the man, who collapsed into the ground with a muffled thump, muted only by the hard dirt. The Grim disapparated.

Harry stood from the crouch, and surveyed the man with some level of apprehension and contempt. Geoff had obviously underestimated Harry, or Harry had overestimated Geoff. He narrowed his eyes, and cast finite incantatem at the man's face. It peeled back, revealing a somewhat older, haggard looking face, lined with few wrinkles, and marred with some scars. One ran from his temple to his jaw bone. Lone grey hairs stood out in contracts to otherwise mousy brown hair, arranged in an unruly mop that was flattened against the forehead. The eyes were bared to see, but they were interesting in their own right. Even with the effects of the stunner, the man's eyes changed colours, changing from a golden, yellowy colour, to a deep intense brown. The face was semi familiar, but Harry could not put a name to it. He activated his portkey, grabbing 'Geoff", back to the apartment.

00o0o00o000oooo0o000o0

Dumbledore paced his roomy office, in a deep funk, contemplating the universe. Well, his immediate universe anyway. The problem of Harry Potter's existence was his chief problem. The upheaval that it caused was limited to himself and McGonagall only. It was too dangerous to be told to, well, unsavoury people, not unlike Voldemort and his fanatical Death Eaters. He also could not be sure of exactly who was either a Death Eater, or at least, supporting and/or funding the movement itself. He had certainly pondered telling his pet spy and Death Eater, one Severus Snape, but could not bring himself to tell the man. 'No, better it just be limited to few people' mused Dumbledore.

Of course, this thinking got him absolutely nowhere in the bigger picture, but it was a paradox view. He really needed an agent in the field, who was able to search and find Harry, where ever he may be, but who was loyal to Dumbledore himself, but also could employ whatever measures take his own fancy. It certainly was a dilemma. The only problem, is of course, the prior discussion of limiting the people who knew of this. Doubt wormed its way into Dumbledore's head. What if Harry Potter really did survive? What of Neville Longbottom? Which is the real child of the prophecy? Should I expend more resources in tracking down Harry, or training Neville?

Albus dismissed the idea. Harry Potter is not the child of the prophecy, he decided. There is no evidence that he has been marked as the Dark Lord's equal, whereas Neville, most certainly had been. There. Problem solved. No need to track down the infuriating brat called Harry James Potter. A sneaking thought entered his mind. 'What of the elusive Sirius Orion Black?'

The ponderings of Albus Dumbledore were important, and he slowly sunk back into his deep funk.

0o0ooo00000o0oo0oo0o0o0o

Years of service to his Lord certainly helped, decided Pettigrew. He knew the insides and outsides of every shady magical district in England, and it had taught him how to handle himself, or so he had thought.

Like every other time, Pettigrew had breezed on into the dingy, smelly and generally dirty pub of such a reputation that no "light" wizard would dare to visit, even when said wizard was dying of thirst. He had plonked himself down at the bar, ordered the night's special brew, paid and turned around in his barstool to watch the nightly entertainment.

It wasn't much. It was really the usual strippers, who looked pretty good, if Pettigrew admitted to himself, mixed with a single pole. To any single, sexually frustrated man, any female would look good, but that was beside the point. He snorted with derision. He was soon lost to his thoughts, while his eyes unconsciously roved over the occupants of the pub. It was the third time that his eyes roved over a particularly good-looking female customer, that he felt the atmosphere of the pub plummet.

It became positively dangerous, and felt like there was an electrical charge in the air that threatened to zap all the occupants, in such a way that they may not be able to sip their remaining drinks. Pettigrew angled his head slowly, surreptitiously, toward the door, expecting to have a glimpse of the character that changed the mood of the pub so quickly. He was to be disappointed though.

There was no striking figure by the door. The air felt frigid now, and the room was actually frozen. People were not moving, as if held in place by full body binds and stunners. He felt a knife nick his skin, just above his Adam's apple, and a wand poked into his back simultaneously. Never having envisioned this situation, his courage and bravado so prized by his Hogwarts house, evaporated. A stain appeared on the front of his pants, and started spreading, slowly but surely. He whimpered, a pitiful sound in the confinements of the now silent pub.

His attacker laughed, a tinkly, musical sound that one would normally associate with a happy-go-lucky person, who was quick to laugh. Pettigrew relaxed, thinking that the laugh was a true representation of his assailant. In this regard, he was quite wrong. The knife cut deeply into his neck, enough to injure, but not permanently maim, and blood welled across the cut and the blade. Pettigrew instinctively stiffened, making the knife spill more of his blood. The assailant snorted with disdain and indifferent amusement.

Pettigrew felt the knife being withdrawn from his neck, and a split second later he was spun around viciously. Pettigrew felt his eyes widen with shock and awe. In front of him, stood an amazing specimen of the opposite gender. Luscious black locks framed a fragile looking face, complete with slightly tilted nose, eyes of purest ice, full lips with a few freckles dotted here and there. Aristocratic face thrust into Pettigrew's face. Perfectly manicured hands gripped the hilt of the dagger as she levelled the knife, point first, at Pettigrew. Pettigrew had his eyes crossed, just trying to keep the knife in view. The woman opened her mouth and spoke "Master Pettigrew, how good to see you again."

Pettigrew shivered, and not from her message or tone, which was delivered with the warmth of day-old porridge, but because the temperature of the room plummeted even lower, which he didn't think it was even possible. He sensed the disdain the occupants of the room regarded him with. He ignored them in favour of giving his attention between the knife, and the wielder. He gulped nervously.

00oo00oo0o0o0o0o0o

Daphne Greengrass, Heiress to House Greengrass, finally decided she immensely disliked Australia, simply on the grounds that it was not England. She stared into the mirror again, cursing the warm weather, as it made her blonde hair slightly frizzy. Although not a vain girl, Daphne certainly prided herself upon her appearance, and she knew exactly her effect upon young men. Luscious eyelashes framed an icy blue pair of eyes, centred upon an aristocratic looking face, complete with upturned nose. Dangling hair completed the picture.

She sighed, regretting the decision her father had made several years ago, to leave England and its war behind. Especially to Australia. Her father just had to be completely and utterly unorthodox. His paranoia of being found leading him to choose the most secluded part of the world. According to her mother, Hermera, Australia was very backward compared to England, but preferred Australia.

She turned her mind away from that particular topic. She desperately wished to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but she, along with her family, was unsure whether she would even receive a letter of invitation, due to her father's aforementioned decision. Her thoughts strayed to her birthday, tomorrow. Yes, she was slightly nervous, but reigned in the emotions, as expected of a pure-blooded Heiress to a wealthy family. She, of course, was nervous about receiving and invitation to Hogwarts, which was delivered on attendees' birthdays. She couldn't wait.

O00oo0o0o0o0o0o0o000oo

Voldemort winced spectacularly as a purple turban was wrapped around his head. Garlic permeated his pitiful olfactory senses. He hated the fact that he was stuck in the back of a useless wizard's head. No. Loathed would be a better word. He loathed the fact that he had to rely on a substandard wizard with little magical power to survive. He, the Dark Lord, who made the wizarding world fall to their knees. He, who had sacrificed much, to assured of immortality.

Look where that got him. Piggy-backing upon various animals, mostly snakes, until he found a lost wizard in the forests of Albania. It was so incredibly easy to seduce the young teacher into accepting the spirit of Lord Voldemort. Probably the easiest thing of the entire debacle, really. And therein lay the problem. It was too easy to trick the man, whose name Voldemort later learned was Quirinus Quirrell. Far too easy. Voldemort had never really thought about that, until the first time the man used magic.

They had apparated. Normally, under his own power, Voldemort would not have minded in the slightest. Then again, he had devoted years of learning about apparition. This, performed by the snivelling mass of flesh, was painful, and left Voldemort attempting to rid himself of the dizziness that had invaded his senses. He dreaded to think about international, or even long range, apparition. He sighed mentally.

Of course, being reaccepted into Hogwarts was child's play. He felt a sick pleasure in tricking the bumbling fool of a headmaster, into allowing his vessel to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. What a joke. He knew if Tom Riddle had applied for the post, he would've been turned down immediately. With having the vessel playing host the Voldemort, he had secured the spot. It was time to meet, and teach, the bane of his existence. Harry James Potter.


	4. Chapter 4: Changing

Disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.

A/N: Hi all, just as a quick update, I fixed up the paragraphing problem that plagued the first chapter.

If you so desire, you are welcome to read back through it. No words have been changed, just the overall layout of the chapter itself.

This document took me a while to write, and I'd like to know if you prefer his length (with possible slower updates) of chapter, compared to the two-three thousand word chapters I was churning out at a rate of one week per chapter.

I also increased the time spent on one character, to appease the few reviewers that complained that the story was bouncing around too much. I hope this chapter helps!

Oh, and I attempted to add a little humour. Love it/hate it, please let me know.

Anyway, onwards with the story!

0o000ooo0o0o000ooo0o0o00o0o0o

_Harry stood. He looked at his fallen foe, grasping his arm tightly, before activating his emergency portkey, hidden in his talisman necklace._

It deposited both combatants into Sirius' living room, where the mad godfather guffawed loudly. Harry placed the talisman back on the necklace, but not before admiring the craftsmanship of it. It was a gold piece, crafted into the likeness of a griffin, with two tiger eye gems as the eyes, and a piece of purple obsidian in the stomach of the griffin. The Potter Family talisman, depicting the protector animal. Harry let the man slump to the ground, his face twitching with amusement at Sirius' mirth.

It was another fifteen minutes of impatience (from Harry) until the mirth died down.

"What did you do the poor man?" Sirius enquired.

"Oh nothing too serious," replied Harry, snorting, "Just a stunner."

"Bullshit!"

"Stop being such a child, Siri, even I, at eleven have far more maturity than you," Harry loftily replied, before being tackled and tickled by aforementioned Siri.

They rolled around on the ground, with the boy able to fend off the much older man. Of course, Harry just had to bait Sirius, but the play wrestling stopped when the other occupant shifted and groaned. Sirius looked only slightly concerned. He had, after all, watched the match between the combatants.

Harry raised his head curiously, as if to inspect the man. He was greeted by the sight of the golden eyes, which registered surprise and embarrassment, along with a myriad of other emotions. Harry went airborne. Sirius grunted from the exertion of kicking the young boy off him, flipped a two fingered salute at the Boy-Who-Flew, and ambled over to the man.

"Well Remus, it certainly has been some time since I saw you last" declared Sirius. Remus, for that was who the ex-assailant was, looked back at him with something akin to relief.

"Hello Padfoot. Indeed it has been a while. I myself still wonder at your cheek, undermining old Dumbles all those years ago, and even sneaking off young Prongslet here" Remus replied. Sirius chuckled.

"There's quite a lot you don't know Moony. Scratch that. There's a shit ton you've got no idea about. How does a scotch sound?" Sirius asked, while glancing at Harry, who was also looking bewildered.

"Who in Morgana's tits are you," demanded the 11-year-old, "and why are you even here?"

Sirius turned to the boy, placating him with a gentle smile. "Well, it seems like even Harry has a lot to learn, that I haven't started upon. Say hello to your new defence and duelling instructor, Harry."

Remus smiled.

00oOOoo0o000ooO0o0oo0o

The girl shifted in her bed slightly, waking up as the sunlight permeated through her room. Rays of sun illuminated her slightly tanned skin. Her eyes opened sleepily, and she blinked, attempting to clear her head from the drowsiness. That all evaporated when a dark blonde missile entered the bedroom, jumping on the once sleeping mass encased in sheets like a cocoon.

"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Haaaappppyyy Biirrtthhddaaaaayy dear Daphneeeeee! Happy Birthday to you" sang an overjoyed voice.

"Stori, it's way too early in the morning for you to be jumping around" grumbled Daphne to her younger sister, Astoria.

"Is not" argued Astoria.

"Is too"

"Is not"

"Is not"

"Is too" stated Astoria.

Daphne giggled as Astoria blinked. And blinked again.

"No fair, Daph. That was a sly move."

Daphne giggled again at her sister's antics. She sobered up quickly. She loved her sister very much and Daphne would move the world for her, if asked. Her sister's voice penetrated her thoughts.

"So what are you dooooing today Daph?" she asked, dragging out the vowel, "Anything interesting?" she inquired again, winking.

Daphne blushed.

"Nothing, dear Stori, apart from attempting to get away from you!"

With a flourish of the sheets, Daphne sent her sister flying off the bed, where she landed on the soft carpet.

"Argh, Daph!" she complained, "do you have to be so forceful?"

Daphne smirked.

"Well, considering I am going out today, and rather soon…" she left the sentence hanging.

Astoria pouted, hands on her hips, and pulled an innocent looking expression. How she managed all of that is beyond Daphne. She laughed, a warmth filled laugh.

Daniel Greengrass strode into the room. It fell silent, as he cast his gaze around. Daphne swallowed involuntarily. He glared at Astoria especially. Astoria gulped, Daphne swore later that she could've heard her gulp in the dead silence of the room. Daniel moved forward, with the impassive, bordering upon angry, facade. When he was roughly a metre from his eldest daughter, his face split into a wide, beaming smile, as he scooped up Daphne, and performed his own rendition of Happy Birthday.

Daphne laughed. She had been scared of her father when he had once entered the room, as it was the face he wore when a family member had done something wrong, or he was deeply disappointed. She swatted him playfully on the back of his head, while simultaneously demanding that he put her down. Astoria giggled at their antics, before scrabbling downstairs to meet the Lady of the House.

Daphne took the opportunity to just talk to her Dad, a rare occurrence these days due to the work that he was taking on, with the family business in both Australia and England, and his continued work into politics.

"Father, where have you been the last few days?" she inquired.

Daniel shook his head slowly. "I cannot tell you little one, let's just say that I had … a little confrontation with a family trying to muscle into our business in England, and leave it at that."

Daphne sighed. "Father," she continued, pressing for answers, "you know that I need to understand the workings of the business, for when I come of age. That means that I will have to understand how you deal with … troublesome customers, and other various areas, to keep the business growing and functioning." She looked at him in the eyes, seeing the sadness and pain within the brown orbs. She reached up and stroked his hair, running her had through strays bits of silver, that dotted the otherwise undulating black hair.

He mock glared at her. "Another time," he stated firmly, "today is your special day, and I do not wish to spoil it." He stopped glaring, and offered Daphne a tentative smile. She turned, and walked into the walk-in-wardrobe, holding her nose in the air, sniffing for effect. Daniel sighed, and turning, opened the door, and made his way downstairs into the kitchen, following the delicious scents his nose could detect.

00o00oo00o0o0o0o0o

A full half hour later, Daphne waltzed into the kitchen. She had on a smart, yet casual sapphire coloured dress, reaching just past her knees. Little sequins were sewed into the material, on her shoulders and around the neck-line, catching the natural light spilling into the room. Her eyes sparkled with undisguised happiness as she surveyed the room. The house elves were busy cleaning the kitchen, returning it to its spotless state before they had cooked up a storm from breakfast.

She meandered through a side door, down to the dining room. She stood still for a minute, just observing the occupants in the room. They were seated around a modest 6 person, mahogany table, with enough food laid upon it that Daphne imagined that she could hear it groaning with effort. Unfortunately for her, Astoria had decided it would be absolutely hilarious to set up a muggle prank on the person to next enter the room. It consisted of a bucket of water being balanced on top of the door, with the idea being that it would dump water upon the next person to walk through. Both Hermera and Daniel had noticed the prank, and exercised precaution when entering the room. They had both left the prank active, after passing through.

As Daphne pushed open the door to see the rest of the room, and her family, the bucket toppled over and water cascaded from the top of the door. Daphne, having no idea what was happening at all, raised her hand to shield herself from the water which was rushing toward her. She waited a moment, before raising her head warily, expecting to feel the coldness of water soaking through her clothes. It never happened. She raised her eyes, meeting her mother's blue eyes, conveying a look of shock and utter surprise. Her mother looked at a spot just above Daphne's head. Daphne raised her eyes heavenward. What met her blue orbs was a sight to behold. The water had completely frozen against the door and against each molecule.

There were no stray drops or anything, just a mass of ice. Daphne moved out from underneath it, glaring death at her sister, who was the only member of the family immature enough to enact the prank. She glanced over to her father, with a thank you on the tip of her tongue, when she noticed he too was regarding the ice sculpture, without his wand in hand. Daphne shivered, and she was pretty sure it wasn't caused by the cold radiating from the ice, but rather from her. Well, to clarify, the temperature that started at her magical core, then spreading throughout her body, before radiating from her body, through her clothes and interacting with the immediate environment. Astoria's glass of orange juice froze, then the glass cracked like a gunshot, startling everybody.

Daniel was the first to respond, who started by casting heating charms everywhere, in order to raise the temperature a little. Hermera shook herself out of her stupor, and ran to her eldest child, grabbing her around the waist.

She shouted out to Daniel, "I'm taking her to Aceso's!"

Daniel nodded, as his wife and eldest daughter disapparated with a pop, to the Australian Wizarding Hospital, Aceso's.

00o0o0o000oo0o

The two Greengrass females landed with a muted pop, as they fell a few inches to the ground, from a mistimed apparition. Hermera roughly grabbed her daughter and shuttled her past the dingy looking magical front for the hospital. Daphne got little time to scrutinize the disguise, noticing the cracked windows, mould growing in cracks between bricks and a few moth eaten rags hanging off some mannequins situated in the windows. She stumbled slightly as her mother shoved her through the dilapidated building's full length window that was missing a pane. A cool trickle of magic passed through her, and she widened her eyes comically.

The reception area of the hospital was nothing like she had imagined. Daphne had envisioned some sort of white walls, white ceiling with a pristine marble floor. She also imagined that there would be lots of people sitting in chairs waiting for their turn while busy receptionists barely coped with the influx of people, with nurses bustling around and ordering patients into rooms. None of this was remotely true.

She firstly noticed the bright colours of the walls that bordered upon an eyesore. A mural was plastered against the far wall, depicting the evolution of the art of magical healing. Off to the left, secluded in one corner, was a small child's play ground, where a few parents gathered, watching their child having a ball. Daphne particularly noticed the red slide that seemed to be the centre of attention for 4 young children, who could not be over the age of 3. She smiled softly. She turned her attention to the rest of the foyer. There were minimalist amount of chairs, which were also unoccupied, and there was a conspicuous absence of nurses rushing around.

It was actually the statue, combined with fountain, in the middle of the foyer that really captivated Daphne's attention. It was a wizard crooning over a smaller baby, with the wizard's wand pointed at the baby's forehead. Water trickled out of the end of the wand and onto the baby, cascading into a pool at the feet of the statue. The black marble, which it was sculptured from, highlighted the water's movements. Daphne wrenched her eyes away from the statue, and focussed upon the receptionists, and her mother who was currently dealing with them. She listened in to the conversation between both parties.

"… I don't care if there isn't a room specialised enough, she needs to be admitted immediately. There must be something wrong with her. No child, at age 11, can harness their inner magic wandlessly, especially at that level. I'm telling you that it was no accidental magic!"

"Ma'am, it is not that we don't believe you, the problem is that we have no available rooms that would be uniquely suited to your daughter. We can place her in a holding room, until a magic suppression room becomes available, but that will cost you more than the usual rate" the receptionist stated, trying to placate the irate Lady Greengrass.

Daphne turned her head away, hiding the tears that sprang to her eyes. She was confused about the fuss, but her mother was treating her like dirt when dealing with the hospital. She felt the tears harden against her face, and felt the cool caress of the now icy tears fall off her face. Her mother's shouting interrupted her relaxation.

"She is an abomination. No child can control the water and freeze it into ice without training. It wasn't accidental magic as it kept affecting the room. It is unnatural. Admit her at once!"

Daphne felt her fingertips flare, along with her anger. She cringed inwardly, cursing her mother for hanging onto her stupid pure-blooded ideals, and hate of anything remotely "unnatural". Her anger flared even more, her fingertips fluctuating rapidly. She noticed that it wasn't an inferno of anger, more like a cold, blizzard-like anger, seeping through her normally calm exterior. At that moment, she hated her mother. Her heart hardened as she thought of her father's reaction as well. It was of suspicion and loathing that he glared at her after the glass broke. Coldness wrapped around her heart, suppressing her emotions, hardening her expressions, giving her a haughty look.

She turned back around, assessing her mother, who was still engaged with the receptionist. Her mind whispered to her, like a cool breeze, 'This was not how my birthday was supposed to turn out like.' She laughed quietly to herself. It wasn't a nice laugh. One of the children playing in the corner looked at her, shivered and looked quickly away. Her body started radiating pure coldness, freezing the statue in place. She looked at it in anger, reminding her of a story that her mother once told her. She shut the emotions associated with her mother away, and concentrated on the story.

She marched quickly up to the statue and placed her palm against the child. The ice dropped into the basin. Daphne thought hard. The statue started to shift and change. She looked up, watching the black marble ripple beneath her fingers, moulding into her desire. After a few minutes, she backed away. No longer did the wizard have a loving look on his face, instead a leer twisted his otherwise handsome face. The child looked impassively up at the wizard, without any trace of fear, happiness or pain. The water flowed from the wand again, but instead of simply washing over the child, it disappeared into a rune on the baby's forehead. Daphne admired the handiwork. She internally frowned. 'Since when had she been able to perform transmutation?' she wondered. She couldn't place why she had included the rune on the baby, but it felt right, a sort of connection between her and the statue.

She had initially shaped it to be of a baby Neville Longbottom, who England called "The Boy Who Lived" based upon her mother's stories, but it had changed during the transmutation, so it no longer reflected the Longbottom Heir. With the beginnings of messy hair, it would never resemble Neville. Especially with the distinction of a rune on the forehead, which was curiously shaped like a lightning bolt.

00oo0o0o0o0o0o0o00o

Daphne disappeared from one aisle to the next, skating over the unimportant muggle cosmetics. How muggles put up with the disgusting things she would never know, or understand. Gah! She was secretly pleased that Hermera (that was what she was called in Daphne's mind now, not mother) had invented some excuse to leave Daphne to shop by herself.

Daphne exited the muggle department store, and made her way out onto the busy beach, lined with trees, concrete paths, sand, and of course, people. Daphne inwardly cringed as she saw one drunken Australian trip and fall over, knocking his head on a tap secured to a post. 'That would've hurt' she thought. She ambled along following the path, magical backpack storing all the items she had already bought with the confusing muggle money.

'Notes and coins, c'mon, not even solid metal coins either, and the notes were just jokes'. Honestly, one could use one of those newfangled muggle printers and print off a couple of the notes. 'Flimsy pieces of paper' she snorted.

She found the Beach Cafe, and entered it slowly, scanning her immediate environment with her magical aura, something that she had discovered quite recently. Satisfied with the check, and no wizard was following her, she made her way into Meyer's avenue. Upon entering the avenue, she quickly ducked to the side, and straightened her dress. Mentally cataloguing all the items she would need to buy, she started to head down a side alley. First stop: A wand.

00o0oo0oo0o0o0o

"Wait here missus, I'll 'ead out back and grab a coupla things" said the store owner to Daphne. She took the time and gazed around at the room. Although interesting to the normal person, the jars of wand cores that lined the walls did not interest her in the least. She was a woman on a mission.

Flint, the store owner, came heavily recommended as a wand-maker to Daniel Greengrass, who in turn, told his daughters. Daphne took it to heart, and found herself walking down a dingy, dirty alley, with few visitors. Shadows had overhung corners, hiding things that could have been situated there. Once, she could have sworn she saw purple eyes following her, the luminescent orbs fixated upon her, permeating the shadows, creeping her out, so she had hurried on to find Flint's Wand Crafters.

Flint returned holding several boxes stacked upon each other. He gently spread them out on the bench. "Now miss, all you have to do is follow yar magic, feel what wood is right. That will tell me what wood your wand needs to be crafted from. Don't worry if ya feel more than one connection. Point out each wood ya find a connection to, please" Flint stated, gesturing to the now open boxes. Daphne peered at the all.

"Do I pick them up, or…?" Daphne asked

"Nar, just wave ya hand over the top."

Doing so, Daphne felt rather foolish. She couldn't feel a damn thing.

Sighing, she looked up at Flint, who was regarding her with a somewhat questioning gaze. "I can't feel anything" she stated.

Flint looked utterly taken back. Clearing his throat he moved into the next room, gesturing for Daphne to follow. She opened her mouth to ask him a question, but he made a shushing gesture. Motioning her forward, she took steps into the grand room, regarding it with ill-concealed curiosity. The room was bathed in an ethereal light, stemming from an ancient moonstone hanging from the ceiling. What caught her attention though, was the man bending over a workbench, directly below the stone, crafting a long piece of wood.

Several silvery instruments hovered around the man, quickly nipping in and making incisions, then ducking out of the way. He pulled out his wand, moving the workbench into a corner, then faced Daphne.

"Good afternoon" he said, "I must say that I have been expecting you, young Daphne. Welcome to my new temporary home. You would have many questions to ask me, I would guess."

Daphne took a moment, after being utterly shocked at the man's casual acquaintance with her name, or rather flattered that he would know of her. "Who are you?" she finally asked.

The man chuckled. "Ahh, the innocence of youth," he mused, "How did I guess you were to ask this question? I, Daphne, am Nicolas Flamel. Perhaps you have heard of me?"

Daphne actually took a step back in shock. Nicolas' dark locks mostly covered his face, but he emitted an aura of a powerful wizard, so she believed him.

"I see that you have, child. As nice as it may be to talk to you, you are obviously in need of a wand. I am guessing that none of the sample woods resonated to your magic?" Flamel directed the question at Flint.

Both Daphne and Flint shook their heads.

Flamel continued "I will return with some more, exotic, woods, and you shall perform the same procedure as before."

He turned and disappeared into a small doorway, almost invisible against the dark shadow from the bookcase next to it. Flamel returned quickly, and set down a singular box, with a bit of a flourish. He prised open the lid, and beckoned to Daphne. She obeyed, and waved her hand over the top of woods. Immediately, she found a connection to two different woods. She pointed at them, and Flamel quickly removed them, and studied them both.

"Interesting."

Daphne quirked her eyebrow, but left her question unsaid. Motioning her over to the wand cores, Flamel opened the cabinet, and told Daphne to repeat the process that she did with the woods. Again, waving her hand, Daphne went to point at a core, but stopped. She then pointed at two, then additional one. Flamel's eyebrows rocketed skywards, but he didn't comment on the three cores.

"Acacia and Aspen Woods, combined with Dragon Heartstring, Ice Wyvern Scales and a Demiguise Hair. Interesting. Acacia wood is known for being a very powerful wood, yet best for subtle magics, and Aspen wood is used for exemplary duellists. Dragon Heartstring is excellent for use in duelling and is favoured by duellists, Ice Wyvern Scales are interesting as they harmonise with Water/Ice Elementalists and are known to be excellent for Dark Arts. Demiguise Hair has an amazing affinity for Transfiguration and they harmonise with Earth Elementalists."

"I think, young Daphne, you are going to be an exceptional witch. The person who crosses yourself, will rue the day they met you" Flamel joked.

"Firstly, how much will this cost, and secondly, how long will it take to make?" Daphne asked.

Flamel replied "No more than 2 hours. For you, that will be…"

"On the house" finished a deep, baritone voice.

Flamel and Daphne both jerked their heads around to study the intruder. Flint had disappeared.

"Uh, thank you, sir" Daphne managed to say, before rushing out of the room, leaving Flamel and the stranger together, both wearing an amused expression.

Flamel turned to the man. "Just who are you?" he asked.

"Why, don't you recognise me, Master Flamel?" the man mocked, placing stress on the word Master.

Flamel's eyes grew wide.

00ooo0o0oo000oo0o0o0

Daphne returned to Flint's after three hours, after completing the rest of her shopping. She was unburdened by the results of the shopping trip due to the kindness of most store-keepers, and her magical backpack. She idly thought 'Better not ever leave my lunch in the backpack. It would stink, and I'd never be able to find it.' Chuckling quietly to herself, she pushed on the wooden door, not bothering to knock, reasoning after an extra hour, Flint would be still expecting her, if not Flamel himself.

The door was roughly wrenched out of her hands. Inside the doorway stood a man with shaggy black hair. His grey eyes pierced hers. Aristocratic, high cheekboned face scrutinised young, unmarred aristocratic face. He grabbed her shoulders and ushered/dragged her inside. He practically growled at her.

"What do you think you're doing, missy?"

She answered him, her nervousness belied by her eyes, "Getting my wand, sir."

"Wrong answer."

She floundered for a moment, searching for answer that may let her regain possession of her shoulders. She inhaled. Bad move. The man's breath stank of stale Firewhiskey. That and his stately moustache. She wrinkled her nose, meeting the man's eyes, which were portraying the start of anxiousness and impatience.

"Uh, hoping that I would be able to collect my wand from Master Flamel, sir. Please, believe me, it's the truth," said Daphne adding the last sentence when she saw the man's eyes tighten.

That seemed to mollify the man.

"And what is your name, missus? Your real name?" he pressed.

She blinked. "Daphne Greengrass" spilled out of her mouth.

It was the man's turn to blink. "Greengrass, you say? What would the Greengrass family want, here in Australia?"

"I do not know, sir. My father does not care to inform me as to why we remain in Australia."

The man smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "I think it may be time to pay a visit to your dear father, don't you agree Daphne? We wouldn't want to have your family continuing their existence in Australia, do we? I think it might be a good idea to remind Daniel, who exactly is in control, here, and who was in control in England, and is currently."

Daphne shrank away from the man in fear. She was really starting to regret coming to Flint's.

"Oi! Scoundrel, unhand that maid." The man's head whipped around, in the direction of the voice.

Daphne took the change to wriggle and break the man's hold on her shoulders. She glared at the man with something akin to disgust. The man backed away, holding his hands up, almost in defeat. Another man entered the light. He twirled a wand in his hand. It caught the light, glinting off the highly polished wood. Daphne's breath caught. 'It was her wand, how dare this person man-handle her property?' she angrily thought.

The man must have sensed her mood swing. He laughed. "Dear Daphne, I'm not going to even scratch your wand. After all, it's a poor investment if I break it, before you even get to use it." He smiled. The scraggy-looking man snorted.

"I'll introduce myself then, especially if the Heiress, here, is to introduce me to her dear father."

The nice man interrupted. "I think not."

Scraggy, the now aptly named man (to Daphne anyway), looked scandalised.

"Look here, you rascal, I'll have you know that I still outrank you, Australia or England."

The-Well-Mannered-Man laughed. "And I'll have you know that I could buy the ground out beneath you, and dump you well away, not to mention absolutely whoop your ass. I would not be talking my dear man."

"If you so insist."

"Not here."

"I agree."

It was like a bloody tennis match. Daphne's head swivelled so quickly, it was a miracle she hadn't hurt herself yet.

"Where then?" asked The-Well-Mannered-Man.

Scraggy looked amused.

"No, absolutely not, _myte_. We are not taking her back to the apartment" stated The-Well-Mannered-Man.

"No." Both men looked surprised at Daphne's inclusion to the conversation. "I want my bloody wand, then you can abduct me, if you so wish."

The-Well-Mannered-Man sighed. Scraggy chuckled.

"Feisty. I like it. And you'll have to get used to it" said Scraggy, turning to The-Well-Mannered-Man.

Daphne's jaw dropped. 'Bloody hell, they actually are abducting me. And it sounds like I am going to be used as a bartering chip against father. Actually, on second thoughts, it might be a good idea to leave the family. It's not as if I would return to any love in the Greengrass family. They have one perfect daughter, and now one freak.'

She squared her shoulders and looked at both men. They shivered internally at the display of such an emotionless mask called Daphne. She spoke. "I will go with you, but I have the choice to stay or leave after I am introduced."

Scraggy nodded. "Fair enough."

0oo00oo0o0o0o0oo0

Daniel Greengrass sat in his study, idly remembering that IT was supposed to be home now. He refused to refer to Daphne by name, out loud or internally. He didn't really care. Let Hermera deal with IT, if she wants. I do not want some sort of freak under my roof. Glancing at the stately envelope, he amended the statement. I do not want the freak under my roof at any stage.

His study door burst open, splinters flying though the air, some of them piercing Daniel's outer robe.

00o0oo00oo0o0o0o0

_Flashback_

Harry had been having an excellent day, milling around Meyer's avenue, until he had seen Her. Sirius had nudged Harry, shocking him from his stupor. Sirius laughed at the goofy expression on Harry's face, and decided the Marauder heritage should come out to play.

"Oi! Harry!"

"Shut up, idiot. Stick to the names, or our cover could be blown."

"Oi! Brendan!"

"What, Jack? Can you just shut up and leave me in peace? How bloody hard is that to do, _myte_?"

"Yes. Yes. And yes."

"What?"

"Say, look at the pretty chick."

"Fuck off Jack, I don't have time for your shit."

"Brendan, shut the fuck up and listen to me you lil' shit."

"I have better things to do than waste my potential on you."

"Listen, you teabag!"

"I could not give a flying tit what you think."

"The girl's an Elemental."

"I said I don't c….. what did you just say?"

Sirius (Jack) smirked. "I said, that girl is an elemental."

Harry (Brendan) just had to ask "Is that the connection that I felt this morning, when I paid for her wand?"

"I'd daresay it is. I highly doubt that she'll be a lightning elemental like you."

"I'll have you know, Jack, that being a lightning elemental simply means that I can control Air, Fire and Electricity/Lightning."

"Yeah whatever, mate. Also, you are in love."

"I don't even know her."

"Exactly. Now, this is the plan."

_End Flashback_

Harry officially decided that he hated lying to fellow elementalists, but he couldn't work out why Daphne hadn't worked out that he was lying yet. Harry had naturally impenetrable Occlumency barriers, due to being an elemental. Of course, he'd only just found out why he had affinity for Fire, Air and Electricity, and why he had always been able to do spells wandlessly. Especially as spells are just beams of light and energy, with magical intentions. He was also pretty good at legilimency, but nowhere near master level.

He gently grasped Daphne's arm, and led her to the back of the room, opening the door, and leading to the room that Flamel had occupied earlier. Flamel was now going back to Europe at Harry's insistence, as he had taught Harry all he could. Over the few years of training with the alchemist, Harry had developed a likeness for the eccentric man, who always seemed full of life and vibrant. Harry would sometimes look back on the days of being an apprentice with a wistful expression etched upon his face.

From there he explained what he was going to do.

"Ms. Greengrass, I am going to hold you close to me, as we need to perform Side-Along-Apparition, back to our apartment. If you would bestow me the honour" Harry said, holding out his arm for Daphne to grasp.

Daphne acquiesced, and all three disapparated with a muted pop.

0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

It was far too long since Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had mustered the strength to even attempt to mighty climb up the Northern Tower, to pay a visit to his resident seer. To be completely honest, it was more the fact that he hadn't fully recovered from the last meeting they had. 'Nuttier than the floor in a castration clinic' Albus had concluded at the end of the meeting. Especially when she had told him that she had foreseen him tripping up the stairs to her room. He hadn't tripped.

Of course, like any part of life, Murphy's Law came into being. As the esteemed Headmaster of Hogwarts was ascending the stairs, not paying attention to his immediate surroundings, the unthinkable happened. He tripped. After cursing the stairwells, batty seers who live in towers and his own clumsiness, he clambered back to his feet. Two steps later, his head connected with the floor again.

Cursing Hogwarts this time, he sealed his fate. Brushing off his regal purple robes, he again started striding up the stairs. Only for him to take another dive.

"For fucks' sake," he roared, "Can I not just get to the bloody seer's domain, in one piece?"

He could've sworn he heard Hogwarts snigger in reply.

"That's it" the Headmaster stated.

Swishing his wand, he levitated himself up the stairs, and into the heavily oppressing atmosphere that Sybill Trelawney cherished. His nose was immediately accosted by the various smells that were paraded around the room. His headache rose dramatically.

"Sybill?" he called out, muttering under his breath about Hogwarts, and insulting the Divination professor.

"Sybill, you destitute tit. I need to see you."

Still no answer. The headmaster sighed. Usually when one hears the aged wizard cuss, one came running. It generally didn't bode to well for the faculty, especially the esteemed Potions Master.

A shuffling noise was heard shortly.

"My Inner Eye advised me you would be here, Albus."

Albus developed a tic under his left eye, but otherwise remained impassive.

Sybill continued, unaware of the Headmaster's ire, "But it didn't advise me of the reason for your visit."

Albus' jaw clenched. For such a knowledgeable wizard, who was adept at hiding emotions, this clenching of the jaw would set off alarm bells for the rest of the faculty. Hell, it would've set off air raid sirens for the rest of the magical community.

That all relaxed though, when the Divination Teacher collapsed into a chair, her eyes becoming unfocussed, despite the large glasses that magnified both the world around her, and the aforementioned eyes. Her voice was also lowered as she spoke, the deep voice coming out as a rasp.

"_Beware of the python my son,_

_Who will not rest until the job is done._

_Beware the Jabberwock my son,_

_The jaws that bite and claws that catch._

_Beware the Elementals my son,_

_To them, Ice or Fire, the world will fall._

_Beware the dark my son,_

_Do not be blinded by the light._

_Beware the saviour my son,_

_For he is neither dark nor light._

_Beware the future my son,_

_Those lost, will again rise."_

Dumbledore reeled in surprise. 'Aha! Another prophecy. Not such a fake after all, eh Sybill?' he thought.

Her normal voice cut through his musings.

"Can I offer you some tea, Albus?" She asked.

"No, it's alright, I just came to check up on you, like I must do to every member of the teaching staff here at Hogwarts" Albus replied, the last part being a lie, he just needed to keep his eye on the seer that made the original prophecy, and now a new one.

He scampered from the tower, tripping several times on the stairs, before making it back to his safe haven, of the Headmaster's office. He sighed with relief, just before the back of his ancient chair gave way, solidly planting him on the floor. He swore violently.

As he was cussing, he missed the mischievous chuckles of Peeves, the poltergeist, as he floated away, happy with the mayhem he had just created for the Headmaster.

00o0ooo0o0o00o0o

_As a side note, can any of you correctly guess what/who Daphne Greengrass really is?_

_BTW, I am not long for an answer similar to "She's Harry's long lost sister!", because she isn't. _


	5. Chapter 5: Emergence

Hi Guys, I am no dead, just having a hard time finding time to continue working on this fic.

I am finding it a little hard to express everything down on paper (so to speak), but any criticism is welcome.

Anyway, disclaimer has not changed - its on chapter 1...

Without further ado, please enjoy the next chapter of a Game of Shadows!

00o0o0o

"High!" _thunk._

"Mid!" _thunk._

"Low!" _thunk._

"Repeat!" _thunk, thunk, thunk._

"Alright, that's enough Harry, Daphne."

Harry wiped his brow, removing the accumulated sweat. Daphne stepped back, away from him, wrinkling her nose, as the overpowering smell of sweat reached her nose. Remus grinned. He just had this sneaking feeling of what would be happening next. 'Annnddd yep, here it comes' he thought.

"Goddamn it Harry, after spending a year with you, I thought you would've been able to at least keep yourself fresh around me" teased Daphne, hand on her hips. She pouted just a little.

"Piss off Daph, you couldn't raise yourself to give a shit. Anyway, that's not what I heard last night…" Harry trailed off, winking. Remus' eyebrows shot off way past his hair line. This was new.

Daphne blushed under the combined forces of the boy's and beast's gazes. She glared at Harry, who chuckled at her childishness. Remus gazed heavenward in complete exasperation, before staring at both combatants, who were looking at him.

"Alright, I was a nice clean duel. No permanent maiming, no killing, no Unforgivables, otherwise free-for-all."

"Awww" said both children, who immediately blushed, then alternatively glared at each other.

"On my count," said Remus, "One, two – FOUR!"

Both of the children sighed, then fixated him with a death glare. If looks could kill, Daphne would've made Hell freeze over, and Harry… Well, he didn't really want to attempt to interpret Harry's gaze.

"Three!" he shouted at them.

0oo0o0o0o00o0o0o0

Daphne lay in a rather compromising position, lying atop Harry, who had stumbled on a rock in the grove. She had attempted to wind him, with a jab to the sternum, but had caught him on the temple, as he tripped, causing her to overbalance and trip on top of him as well.

She looked up into the grinning visages of Remus, and the infernal Sirius Black. Infernal, because of the fact that he had knocked her Father up, shaken him badly, before declaring himself solely in charge of Daphne's welfare. Well, there were more reasons, but she really couldn't take her mind off the current situation. Even more irritating to Daphne, was the fact that her biological father was all too happy to get rid of "The Mistake" as he called her. On top of that, he had revealed to her about her secrets, such as being an incredibly powerful witch, – 'Just look at that wand!' - , and an elemental as well.

Scratch that. An Obsidian Elemental. Sirius had informed her with barely restrained glee that she was the polar opposite, the ying to Harry's yang, who was a Lightning Elemental. He had his defining Lightning Bolt Shaped Scar, she had a scar as well, shaped into 3 dark teardrops in a pyramidal shape. Just another thing her "parents" had covered up, with a blood glamour. They also had a connection through the scars, a sort of cross between a soul bond, and a familiar bond. "Kinky" was what Harry had called it. Bloody boy. How he knew about sex at age 11, was beyond her. The only reason how she knew, is from the combined efforts of Sirius and Harry.

Anyway, due to her powers, she had discovered being an elemental. Obsidian elementals had not been seen for nearly a millennium. In fact, the last Obsidian elemental that was seen publicly, and recorded, had been back in the times of the "Hogwarts Founders". This in itself was a rarity among oddities. There were the four main elementals, Fire, Water, Air and Earth, with an additional 4 elementals, Obsidian (combination of Earth and Water), Lightning (combination of Air and Fire), Volcane (combination of Earth and Fire) and Cyclane (combination of Water and Air). The combination elementals were the most versatile and powerful of the Elementals, and because of this, were shunned from society.

They were also not classed as humans, and therefore had little rights, and over the years hid their abilities as to not be discriminated against. Because of that, they evolved and could only find a lasting relationship and reproduce with another elemental. Unfortunately, the offspring of the elementals had a very low chance of being an elemental themselves.

According to Sirius, notable examples of this were the Four Founders. Salazar Slytherin was an Obsidian elemental, but the other four had been normal elementals. Godric of Fire, Rowena of Air, and Helga of Earth. The opposite elemental of Fire and Water had pitted Godric against Slytherin over time. Slytherin had been ousted from Hogwarts, and become a pariah in his own country. He had left soon after, followed later by Rowena. They had later settled in Albania.

Daphne still hadn't moved from the position. Truth be told, she didn't mind the position, and to her, what Harry didn't know, or realise, wouldn't hurt him. She smiled mischievously. To wake him up, she rolled off him, drenched him in water, and then sent a stinging hex at him.

"Disqualified!" yelled Remus.

Daphne sighed with exasperation. It was always the way. She would let her playfulness out, right after she had beaten him, only to lose the match, because she would use more spells or techniques upon him, after he had been knocked out.

Sirius smirked. He and Remus exchanged looks. Harry woke quite suddenly, when Daphne decided to hex him in the jewels. He 'eeped' before meekly getting up, clutching his anatomy.

Daphne smirked amidst snorts of laughter from both adults present. She knew it was unfair to pit her against Harry, as she had started her magical puberty, and developed her powers and magical ability to surpass Harry, even with the extra training he had done. He was also still not using a wand, despite Daphne almost begging him to get one, if only to satisfy her curiosity as to what it would be.

00oo0o0o0o0o0o0o

Months passed in the same way they had before. Daphne's heart had hardened against emotions, allowing them only to be seen by Harry, Remus and Sirius. Both children had advanced Occlumency, Daphne being slightly less advanced than Harry, according to the tests that Remus and Sirius had conducted during the first week of February. Both children had impenetrable barriers, but were developing counteractions with their defences. Truth be told, Remus was the only person who still had contact with the outside world, and all other members of the motley family preferred it that way.

That seclusion ended today. Harry was twelve and a half, Daphne slightly younger, but both had been through training pushed by Sirius. Harry still didn't use a wand, because he was not in tune with his magical puberty spurt, and therefore Daphne was the more powerful of the two. Sirius and Remus had trained them well. Daphne had almost full control over her elemental abilities, and was proving to be a talented duellist, with a thirst for knowledge, and an absolute prodigy at potions, arithmancy and transfiguration. Harry, on the other-hand, appeared weak in contrast. He had two limited elemental abilities that he could control, a master dueller in terms of skill, but no magical power, prodigy at transfiguration, charms, ancient runes and technomancy. Unbeknownst to either adult or Daphne, he was also quite talented at necromancy, which require wandless abilities (which Harry had in spades).

Today was a test though. Remus and Sirius had somehow received a tip-off that a group of wizards were to be attacking another group of wizards. Normally, the Australian magical society would leave the groups to battle it out. The ministry operated under the ideal that if it didn't cause massive unrest, or spill into the innocents and break the Statute of Secrecy, all was fair play. Unfortunately, it seemed like a certain (so called ex) Death Eater, Mulciber, was behind the rallying of one of the groups.

Of course, Sirius naturally hated anything and everything Death Eater, and had convinced both children, and Remus, that it would be a good measure of Harry and Daphne's skill levels, against trained adult wizards. Harry, for some reason, had an immunity to the Imperious Curse, so he was assigned to takedown Mulciber, whose signature spell was the Imperious Curse. Daphne's target was a lesser known wizard of Australian birth, who was a blood purist, named Charles Blake.

Not much was known about Blake, but there was even less known about Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass, and they were banking on the element of surprise to subdue the eleven wizards of the aggressive group.

0o0ooooo0o0o000ooo0o0o0o

Harry wiped the sweat from his eyes, ignoring the faint stinging of the salty liquid as it interacted with his eyeball fluid. Daphne, on the other hand, looked completely composed, her pure-blooded upbringing and cold mask of indifference were out to play, disguising her inner emotions. Harry gently clasped her hand, startling her slightly. She turned and studied him intently. Even to her, he looked rather agitated. She turned away, opting to study their surroundings.

They had apparated to an unused park moments before, without Sirius and Remus' support. The adults were preparing the back-up plan, if all four of them could not subdue the combatants. The air hung heavily around them, wrapping around Harry especially. It tickled him, calling to his inner necromancy, causing it to raise its head and roar its displeasure at being contained. A swing swung back and forth slowly in the wind, creaking, sending shivers up Daphne's spine. A see saw lay abandoned in one corner, a forlorn looking gazebo in the opposite corner. The muted colours of the playground had eventually faded, leaving rusted metal in plain sight, giving the park an overall sombre mood. Daphne had never seen a more depressing place.

Harry and Daphne were currently sitting on the dark green seat situated to one side of the gazebo. They had a clear view of the park, which they sat scanning for movement. They didn't have long to wait. There were multiple apparition cracks in the area. Harry stiffened, his pulse racing. Both children felt multiple emotions rush through them momentarily, fear, apprehension, nervousness and a sick sense of expectation and longing, before being overwhelmed by the advance of adrenaline that flooded their systems. Harry's eyes took in the three wizards who stood at the head of the "pack" of the other eight wizards. They were all dressed in pure black robes that clung to their frames slightly. The three main wizards all had cloaks that billowed behind them, giving an air of importance and distinction tempered by the silliness of wearing cloaks to a duel.

Harry softly snorted. A cloaked head snapped around, looking in Daphne's and Harry's directions, with a searching gaze the eyes hidden beneath the hood attempted to penetrate the darkness of the park. Beckoning to a few followers, the cloaked figure broke from the main party, and crept toward the gazebo. Daphne's hand slipped from Harry's as she sneakily crouched, then moved away from the structure, intent on finding her target. Meanwhile, the three wizards approached the gazebo and Harry steadily. Green eyes narrowed with distaste as he identified Mulciber heading the terrible threesome. Two more cracks of Apparition were heard. Harry groaned internally, taking his frustrations out upon his palms with his fingernails. Trust Sirius and Remus to apparate into a known hostile area. As blood trickled beneath his fingers, the three other wizards turned as one, to face the unknown intruders.

Harry exploded into action, two severing curses leaving both hands at once, decapitating Mulciber's two henchmen. Mulciber wheeled around, turning to face the new threat.

00o0o

Across the park, Daphne had risen from the shadows to launch her own attack against the wizards, in an attempt to thin some of the ranks of the group, alleviating future problems as she made her way to Charles Blake. Using transmutation she lashed out with huge clumps of earth, exploding beneath wizard's feet, throwing them high into the air. Daphne was concentrating on the move, and thus missed the slicing hex that slashed across her arm brutally. She yelled with pain, losing concentration as the blood dripped just below her shoulder. The two wizards who experienced the power of earth scuttled from the female elemental. She twisted, throwing several nasty curses at them, ignoring the wound and the caster. After rendering both wizards incapacitated, she turned around to spy a grinning Charles Blake.

"Hello sweetcakes." he called to her. "Would you like to play? I'm sure you would. Here, I'm a nice person, why don't you open the duel?"

Daphne snarled, and slashed across her chest with her wand. Blake blinked in surprise at her curse choice, before deflecting it. "Very nice darling, but I prefer things that have a chance of hurting me and raising the adrenaline. I may have to find another challenge, hey sweetie?" he taunted her. She saw red, and sent several spells at him, her anger at being taunted fuelling the intensity of the magic that she cast. A noticeable aura was now surrounding her, blackness writhing then curling around her. It wasn't a nice aura.

00o0o

Harry heard Daphne's yell, and slipped, losing his footing. For his efforts, he barely blocked a dismemberment curse that was cast at him. It splashed against his shield, destroying it in a shower of magical sparks. Harry faltered again. Relying on his smaller magical core was a disadvantage in this fight, and it was showing. He had perspiration all over him from before, and it was increasing in volume as the fight continued. It was his skill in duelling that was levelling the fight at the moment, but Harry knew it wouldn't continue for much longer. He had underestimated Mulciber, thinking the wizard has an average dueller, with average amount of magic, who routinely used the Imperious curse. All of the above points were wrong. The ex-Death Eater was above average in terms of magical power and duelling prowess, dwarfing Harry for power, and hadn't yet used the Imperious yet.

Harry frowned. Moving to nonverbal casting, he sent a barrage of spells at the man. It was a bewildering array of lights, most of them being harmless joke spells that grabbed Mulciber's attention and kept him distracted. He cast a reflecting shield behind the man, aiming slightly above his head. Mulciber completely missed the spell, but still retaliated finally casting the Imperious upon Harry. Pain lanced through Harry's head as he dominated the outside influence on his mind. He fired a bone dissolving curse above Mulciber's head, who dumbly looked at the curse, still not believing the apparent easiness of being able to combat the mind control curse. The spell flashed, then rebounded downward, colliding with Mulciber's head, which shrunk disgustingly, then exploded. The body tilted forward, blood leaking from the stump of a neck - all that remained from the once attached head.

Harry looked up, meeting the eyes of Sirius, who looked disgusted, his emotion running clearly across his face. The look of revulsion that was worn by the normally happy man twisted deeply in Harry's gut. He watched numbly as a yellow curse was hurled toward Sirius, who remained oblivious to it. It crashed into a blue shield that had sprung around the shell-shocked man. Sirius disappeared with a crack. A second crack was heard as Remus also disappeared, following in the wake of his fellow marauder. Harry's side exploded with pain, as his lapse in situation awareness allowed an attacker to gain the upperhand. He quickly fired a curse at the man, watching him fall, then apparated with a crack.

00o0oo

Daphne heard all three cracks of Apparition of Sirius, Remus and Harry as they left. She used a piercing curse that ploughed through a primitive shield, placing a nice hole through the heart of the man duelling her. She apparated away from the battlefield with a distinct crack.


End file.
